


Stand By Me

by Shaish



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Commander Rogers, Gen, M/M, Sexual-ishness, Villain Steve, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 01:10:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3631041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaish/pseuds/Shaish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Steve broke?</p><p> </p><p>Vietnamese Translation here; http://archiveofourown.org/works/3836155<br/>Russian Translation here; https://ficbook.net/readfic/4709569</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Tiếng Việt available: [Kề bên anh](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836155) by [thegirl_gcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl_gcat/pseuds/thegirl_gcat)



> Translated into Russian here; https://ficbook.net/readfic/4709569
> 
> I saw some fanart and really wanted to try writing Villain Steve. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about how it came out but it was an interesting first try.  
> Inspired by these:  
> http://shaish.tumblr.com/post/103262524501/qouinette-pretty-in-pink-i-mean-villain & http://shaish.tumblr.com/post/114821265586/hamletmachine-i-love-villain-steve-askjxc-your
> 
> No beta, so if you see any mistakes that's all me. It's 4am so I probably missed some when I read over it.

He hears the steps first and snaps to attention, heart leaping up into his throat and pulse rabbit quick. The other agents all snap to attention at the same time, always listening for those steps.

Hearing them in their sleep.

The Commander steps into the room, perfectly down the center, and Sean rushes over, tablet in arm.

“Status,” The Commander orders. Sean looks down at his tablet.

“The nations are meeting with the Ruler of Latveria in approximately four point three hours,” he reports, hurrying to keep step, “The President of Russia has been on Line Two for one point two minutes and a dignitary of Genosha called two hours ago to say they were available for a meeting this Thursday.”

“The Avengers,” The Commander says next, doors opening three feet ahead. Sean struggles to keep up, calves starting to burn.

“Hawkeye Barton is still located in a motorhome in Colorado,” Sean reports smoothly, “Hawkeye Bishop is currently being held in Los Angeles for using a bow inside city limits. Banner is still being held in cryostasis in underground floor level thirty-seven in The Fridge, and Iron Man is still M.I.A.”

The Commander nods.

“Thor?” he asks.

“Still on Asgard,” Sean reports, glancing up. They’re approaching the end of the hall. “The meeting is still scheduled for Friday at eight am.”

“That’s all,” The Commander says, and Sean stops just before the third to final room, The Commander’s private rooms, just like he has since taking this job three months ago.

He doesn’t like to think what happened to the last person who had this job and didn’t.

Sean turns sharply on his heel and starts heading back down the stretch of hall, taking a slow breath once the double doors of the private rooms have closed and he’s four rooms away.

After all, The Commander has excellent hearing.

-

He walks through to the next room, pushes the doors open, then the next, climbs the two steps to the raised floor and slows to a stop at the edge of the bed in the left corner, where it’s darkest, even with the blackout curtains evening the light distribution to minimum.

He reaches forward, gently slips his fingers under the edge of the sheet where half a pale foot is sticking out and lightly touches the tips of his fingers to ankle bone, feels smooth skin over the knob of it. The toes curl a little and the foot pulls in a little before slowly stretching out under his fingertips like a flower stretching towards sunlight, the blankets and sheets shifting on the bed.

The mound on the bed shifts and sits up, disheveled brown hair appearing first before a stubble cheeked face, hair wild and a beautiful frame.

Steve smiles.

“Steve?” Bucky asks, voice deep and scratchy.

Steve lets go of the ankle and stands up, moving closer and sitting on the edge of the bed. Bucky scoots forward before shifting the blankets, drags them with him and stops and leans forward. Steve feels his forehead rest off center at the top of his back, Bucky’s arms coming around his own and body warm blankets warming his sides through his uniform.

Steve sighs quietly, leaning back into it a little. He hears Bucky _sniff_ , then feels him lifts his head off of his back and misses the weight.

“You smell like chemicals and gunpowder,” Bucky says. Steve hums back softly, feels fingers slide up the back of his head, combing in reverse through his short hair and _sighs_ , longer this time. “You’re tired,” Bucky says next, “Get some sleep.” Steve _huffs_ quietly.

“President of Russia is on Line Two,” he replies. Bucky scratches his nails gently along his scalp and Steve shudders, feels it _zigzag_ down the length of his spine and out through his shoulders, arms, legs, feet and toes and fingers. Bucky slides his fingers out of Steve’s hair and Steve hears him flop down to the bed. Steve reaches up and fixes his hair.

“Small window. Answer Line Two,” he orders after he’s gotten it more organized. A holoscreen appears two feet away.

“ _Commander Rogers_ ,” the President greets.

“President,” Steve greets back, “Problem?” he asks.

“ _Iron Man_ ,” the President answers. Steve’s lips try to twitch down but he keeps his expression neutral.

“Last location?” he asks.

“ _West border, heading into neutral territory_ ,” the President replies before raising an eyebrow.

“It will be taken care of,” Steve says.

“ _I hope so_ ,” the President replies, “ _Our negotiations are still not finalized. I would hate for them to be...discarded, in the face of a nuisance from your end_.”

Steve inclines his head and the call disconnects. He lets his lips turn down.

“Still causing trouble,” Bucky says from behind him.

“Being a pain in my ass,” Steve replies. He hears Bucky _snort_.

“Wouldn’t be a Stark if he wasn’t,” he says.

A leg snakes between his arm and side and hooks around his stomach, tugging. Steve _huffs_ and lets himself be tugged, turning after a moment to crawl up and lay down next to him, reaching up to brush some of Bucky’s bangs aside.

“He’s going to cause another war,” Steve says quietly. Bucky stares back at him.

“One you still haven’t finished,” Bucky says quietly, cracks of steel in his voice and barbs that coil, brittle and old.

Steve rubs his thumb along Bucky’s stubbled cheek, closes his eyes a little and focuses on the feel of prickle and friction.

Bucky sighs softly and rests his palm on Steve’s cheek, metal body parts warm on his skin. Steve watches him shift closer and his eyes are already closed by the time Bucky’s lips lightly touch his.

“But this way,” Bucky whispers, breath warm against his lips, smelling like old coffee and _Bucky_ , “You’re mine again. You don’t belong to everyone ‘nymore.” Steve opens his eyes to look at him, and Bucky stares back, eyes unreadable with an edge of sad, an edge of possessive. “Do you miss it?” he asks. Steve thinks about it for a few moments before shaking his head. Bucky kisses him again. “Get some sleep.”

Steve obediently closes his eyes.

The only orders he ever takes these days are from Bucky.

-

“ _Hellooo? Hellooooooooooooooo?_ ”

Steve’s eyes snap open. He hears Bucky’s breath stop in his ribcage from where he’s pressed into Steve’s side.

“ _Cap? You there? Don’t tell me I risked my neck for nothing_ ,” the voice finishes in a half mutter that Steve’s hearing picks up.

He turns his head to find Bucky staring at him.

Bucky pulls his arm from around Steve’s lower back and raises it above his head with the other a bit to sign:

 _Told you_.

Steve frowns and Bucky lowers his arm back around Steve’s lower back, shifts it and slides his warm palm up the curve and center, fingertips pressing into one of his scars and Steve shudders, mouth falling open a little and cock going a little hard against the bed.

“ _Ah! Jarvis picked up movement! OH CAPTAIN COMMANDERRRR!_ ”

Steve sighs, lifts his head and pushes himself up on his hands and knees, shifting on the bed and reaching over the side to grab his uniform off of the floor.

“ _You’re naked, aren’t you. You are. You definitely are_.”

Steve scowls and looks over at Bucky, who’s propped himself up onto an elbow on his side.

Bucky just stares blankly back, and Steve scoots off of the bed to get his pants on and then signs:

 _I’m going to kill him this time_.

Bucky glances over his shoulder for a moment before looking back.

Steve gets his top on, pulling the smooth material down. Bucky signs:

 _I will_.

Steve sets a knee on the bed and stretches over, hands braced on the sheets, and kisses Bucky, slow like growing fire.

“ _OH CAPTAIN MY FORMER CAPTAAAAIN. I KNOW YOU’RE BUSY, YOU KNOW, BEING COMMANDER TYRANNY, BUT I DON’T HAVE ALL DAY_.”

Bucky grips the back of his neck and pulls him closer, swipes his tongue slow across Steve’s lower lip before biting it with a canine. Steve sucks in a breath and licks over it when Bucky lets go, tastes blood and sighs softly.

He pulls away and Bucky smirks a little, rolling over while Steve gets up and rounds the bed, eyes following him down the two steps and into the main room. Steve signs something on the way there and two small holoscreens filcker into existence on either side of the large one hovering in front of the far wall with Tony Stark’s face taking up the whole screen.

“ _There he is_ ,” Tony says, “ _Captain of the United States. Commander of the **Free**_.”

Steve comes to a stop, looking up at Tony.

“Why did you hack into my systems,” Steve says, not asks, and Tony _scoffs_.

“ _Because I wanted to ask you something_ ,” he replies. Steve just watches him, and Tony’s expression turns serious. “ _How could you **do** this to us? You **never** explained yourself. Just went on a killing spree. We were supposed to be a **team** , and you_-”

“I did what I had to,” Steve cuts him off. Tony’s mouth snaps shut while his brows draw together.

“ _Look_ ,” Tony starts, “ _I’ve said it before and I still mean it, I’m sorry about what happened to Barnes. I didn’t know that was going to happen. We were just trying to put him somewhere where everyone could be **safe, himself included**_.”

A muscle in Steve’s jaw ticks when he clenches it.

_“ **You’re not allowed in** -”_

_He slams into the doors with his shield._

_“Bucky-”_

_Steve freezes, just for a second, eyes wide, then runs forward with a **yell** , knocking the nearest scientist into a wall hard enough to hear **bone shatter**._

_Once they’re all down, once he’s got blood streaked up his sleeves, the calves of his jeans, splattered across his shield and cheeks like spray paint, he rips the restraints off, letting his shield drop and gripping Bucky’s cheeks in his hands._

_“ **Bucky** ,” Steve says urgently, eyes scanning down his body again, catching for a moment on the tube against the wall containing- _

_“ **God** …” he looks back up, shaking Bucky’s head gently, “ **Buck**.” Bucky groans, eyelids flickering briefly._

_“Steve…?” he asks groggily._

_“ **Buck** ,” Steve repeats, leaning down to press their foreheads together._

_Movement._

_Steve tenses._

_Metal on string._

_“What the hell…?”_

_Hawkeye._

_Steve focuses back on Bucky._

_“Steve…” Bucky repeats, slowly getting his eyes open, “Wh-...” they slowly widen._

_Steve grits his teeth._

_“Bucky-”_

_Bucky’s eyes dart down-_

_His mouth opens and he-_

“You still talk about him like he’s a tool,” Steve says, low and quiet. Tony’s mouth pinches.

“ _You know what’s not what I meant._ ”

“Do I?” Steve asks, staring up at him, “He’s been _kept_ long enough. And what happened…”

“ _That doesn’t justify what you **did**_ ,” Tony stresses, “ _To Bruce, to Clint, Thor, me, Natasha_ …”

_They’re in the gun range, her idea. She’s trying to teach him how to shoot something smaller than what he’s used to, trying to get his mind off of-_

_**Tube-** _

**_Doctors-_ **

**_Scientists-_ **

**_Red, red, red-_ **

**_Bucky screaming-_ **

_“Widen your stance,” she instructs from his left._

_He does._

_“Now-”_

_He fires._

_It hits dead center of the head._

_“Quick learner,” she says, a small smile in her voice._

_He doesn’t say anything._

_She sighs softly._

_“Well?” she asks. He straightens out of the stance._

_After a moment, he turns to look at her._

_She’s got her arms crossed, leaning against the divide. She pushes off of it, coming in close and stopping half a foot away._

_“I’m first,” is all she says._

_The backs of Steve’s eyes sting._

_“You are,” he confirms._

_She smiles a little again, small and a little proud._

_“Smart,” she says, reaching down and taking hold of his hand, raising it up so the gun is pressed firmly to her temple._

_His fingers twitch._

_“Nat-”_

_“I know what you’re going to do,” she cuts him off, expression serious. He closes his mouth, blinks hard a few times. “And none of us would let you. I should fight you right now.” He looks at her for a moment._

_“Why aren’t you?” he whispers._

_She smile a little again, wry._

_It softens out into something a little more real, a little vulnerable._

_“I understand,” she whispers back, then straightens up a little. “Please try not to destroy Clint,” she says a little louder._

_Steve blinks, tears spilling warm over his cheeks, and nods._

_She smiles again and closes her eyes, finally lets herself go somewhere she really wants to be._

_And that’s how he knows._

_His index finger squeezes-_

_That’s why she brought him to the gun range. This was how she wanted it done._

_The gun **fires** and blood streaks his cheek and shirt red, darker than her hair even under the lights. _

_He catches her when she falls forward and buries his face in that same hair, tears spilling like he’s alone at his mother’s funeral all over again._

“You would have tried to stop me,” Steve replies.

“ _Still am_ ,” Tony shoots back, “ _You still on the third to top floor?_ ”

Steve hears a knock.

He waves a hand up and the blackout curtains rise. Night spills in like alcohol he hasn’t felt in years and the stars paint the floor in crystals. Iron Man’s on the other side of the glass.

Steve turns towards him a little, halfway between holoscreen and window.

“ _I got some rockets that will penetrate that special glass of yours you took from my design_ ,” Tony says, smirking grimly, “ _Take the whole top ten **floors** out_.”

“You’re willing to die?” Steve asks, swirling his index finger a little next to his leg.

“ _To stop you and free the others?_ ” Tony asks, “ _Unbanish Pepper from Iceland? If I have to_.”

“I’m not tyrannical,” Steve says, standing straighter, “Everyone gets paid enough to live off of _just_ for living. No one’s gone hungry or been homeless in _two years_. The United States has open trades with countries all over the world, global warming has slowly been reversing, and crime rates are the lowest they’ve been in the history of man. How am I ruling in tyranny?” he asks, to stall.

Tony stares at him for a moment and he’s not sure it’s going to work, but because Tony can never resist, it does.

“ _Because you killed **everyone** , Steve!_” Tony shouts back, “ _You killed Natasha, banished Pepper, sent Thor back to Asgard for being from another planet, and, oh yeah, you wiped out the entirety of congress and the white house! I didn’t like them as much as the next guy, more, even, but you can’t just rule through **murder!** Trust me, I know_.”

Steve listens, studies him for a minute, hears sheets shift and metal on floor.

“ _You would’ve killed me, too_ ,” Tony adds, “ _You’re too smart to let me go, know I’m the biggest risk second to Natasha. Unless you **wanted** me to get away_ ,” he says, smirking a little.

Steve’s lips twitch up a little before he flattens them back out, standing taller.

The smirk fades on Tony’s face.

“The price of freedom has always been high, Tony,” Steve replies, “Or have you forgotten.”

“ _You didn’t do this for them, Steve_ ,” Tony counters, shaking his head, “ _You didn’t do **any** of this for **anyone** **but**_ -”

Steve feels a presence at his back and arm slowly wrap around the front of his waist, Bucky’s mouth pressing to his shoulder.

“ _Barnes_ ,” Tony chokes out, eyes a little wide, thrown off from his speech. “ _You don’t really care about anyone but him_ ,” Tony says after a few moments, collecting himself, “ _None of us **saw** that until you were **blowing our brains out**_.” Tony raises his arms outside the window, weapons forming out of his suit. “ _Now_ -”

“Fire,” Steve says.

“ _What_ -” Tony starts, eyes widening fractionally.

The suit _shifts_ out sharp and then _stabs_ back in, spikes impaling and blood squirting out, hitting the window while Tony screams, the image flickering on the holoscreen. Blood spills out of the suit and streams down, armor shaking, spikes of metal sticking out in crisscross like a porcupine turned on itself.

The suits lights flicker for five seconds before cutting out, then falling out of view.

The holoscreen cuts to static before disintegrating.

“Jarvis,” Steve calls out.

“ _Commander_ ,” Jarvis replies, “ _Anthony Edward Stark has been neutralized_.”

“Thank you,” Steve replies.

“ _Commander_ ,” Jarvis answers, then goes silent.

It’s quiet for a minute.

“The others?” Bucky asks.

“I have contingency plans,” Steve replies, watching the blood slide down the window, black under night sky, darker than Nat’s had been, “I’ll leave them, for now.”

_“You...You killed **Nat?** ” Clint pulls out his gun quick and aims, “ **You** -”_

_“She told me to spare you,” Steve cuts him off. Clint stares at him, eyes wide. “They were her last words.” The gun wavers. “Stay out of my way, Clint. Please.”_

_It slowly lowers._

_“This is because of what happened to **him** ,” Clint says, not asks, “ **You’re**... **What are you doing…?** ” _

_Steve walks over, holds the gun out to Clint._

_Clint’s eyes drop down to it, look wetter under the light._

_After a minute, he takes it._

_“I’m making the world so **nothing ever touches him ever again** ,” Steve says, and Clint’s eyes dart up to his._

_It’s silent._

_Steve walks around him and continues down the hall._

_“Do you know what you look like?” Clint asks quietly, and Steve pauses, “I’d prefer you just kill me and get it over with,” he continues, “And I’d like to kill you right now. But do you know who you look like?”_

_Steve stares straight ahead._

_“You look like Nat,” Clint’s voice breaks._

_A pause._

_“You look like Nat when I first met her: angry, empty, **driven** ,” Clint says, stronger, “I didn’t realize you were that close to breaking. None of us did, except-” his voice cracks, “ **Tasha** …” he strains, sucking in a huge breath._

_Steve listens for a moment, lets it seep down into him and harden, then keeps walking, the sounds of Clint’s knees hitting the hard floor with a **thump** and his yelling following him around the corner to the elevator._

Bucky’s mouth presses to the side of his neck and metal fingers work up under the edge of his uniform top, flesh hand gesturing down to close the curtains again. “Come back to bed,” Bucky says quietly, and Steve’s stomach muscles tense in response when metal fingers run light up his stomach.

The curtains close and Steve lets Bucky lead him back to bed, flesh and metal quietly meeting floor on the way there, up the steps, quiet- _thunk_ , quiet- _thunk_.

He lets Bucky strip him out of his pants while they both kneel on the bed and surrenders to Bucky’s fingers, his lips, his touch, his love, and tries to take away the pain Bucky still feels when he has to walk.

When he has to face the world at all.

A world that, soon, _will never be able to touch Bucky Barnes ever again, and never take anything else away from him._


	2. Boy with a broken soul, heart with a gaping hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a prequel/sequel? ??? Idk how I feel about this one either but THERE YOU GO. ANSWERS.

Steve pushes himself up with a sigh, rubs a palm over his face before letting it drop to the sheets pooled in his lap, staring straight ahead.

After a minute, he rolls his shoulders and sits up straight.

“Jarvis,” he says, “Open new video file.”

“ _Yes, Commander_ ,” Jarvis replies.

A holoscreen materializes a couple feet in front of him and he squints briefly, letting his eyes adjust to the soft glow of the light, electric blue frame.

“Record. My name is Commander Steven Grant Rogers,” he states, a small holoscreen pops up for a minute and he looks from it back to the larger one, “It is 3:51 am, August 18th, 2025. As of two hours ago, I became The Commander of the Planet Earth.”

 

_Ten years ago - 2015_

 

“It’s been eight months, Cap,” Tony says from behind him, “I don’t think you’re going to be the one to find him.”

Steve looks away from the city and back over his shoulder.

“You want me to just _give up?_ ” he demands, but he’s tired, he _sounds_ tired, and he knows it.

Tony flounders for a moment.

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Sam cuts in smoothly, coming up and resting an arm on his shoulder. Steve tenses before letting it out on a breath, shoulders going loose. “Just that if we haven’t found him yet, we probably won’t,” he continues, smiling a little, “He’ll come when he’s ready.”

Steve studies him for a minute.

“What if he’s never ready?” he asks, almost a whisper.

Sam’s smile goes a little sad and Steve can’t stand it, looks back out the window and down- _down_ at the city.

 _God, Buck_ , Steve thinks, _where are you,_ and, _I wish you were here to **see** this_.

A month later, he is.

-

“ _Buck?_ ” Steve asks, rushing out of the elevator.

He skids to a stop ten feet away.

Bucky’s there, standing in the Tower lobby, hair greasy, messy, strands in his face and hanging over his eyes. He’s got a beard that looks just as terrible and clothes that might be even worse, almost hanging off of him and worn ragged, dirty.

He looks awful, and Steve feels the backs of his eyes stinging, because Bucky used to always dress his best with _whatever_ he had, and because Bucky is _here_.

It’s hard, but Steve stays exactly where he is, watches with held breath as Bucky’s eyes slowly, very slowly, become a little less guarded.

“Steve,” he croaks, and it practically _is_ a croak, like glass over pavement, like he hasn’t used his voice in years.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve breathes, almost sobs, pressing his lips tight together when he feels the lower one start to tremble, “Do you-”

Bucky nods before he can finish and Steve snaps his mouth shut again, vision blurring as the tears finally spill over.

He _remembers_.

“Can I…?” Steve trails off next, hopeful, and Bucky’s face softens, just a little, his own eyes looking a little wet.

“You’ll get dirty,” Bucky mumbles, just loud enough for Steve’s ears, and Steve does choke out a sob at that, shaking his head, knows Bucky’s not just talking about the clothes.

“I don’t _care_ ,” Steve stresses, “Bucky.” Bucky’s brows draw together a little, eyes getting shinier. “ _I don’t care._ ”

Bucky drops his head down, eyes on the floor. Steve ignores the sounds of footsteps slowing to a stop back behind him and just focuses on Bucky, world narrowed down to ten feet of space he hates more than just about _anything_ in the world.

Bucky finally looks back up.

“Then get over here,” he says, lips twitching slightly, and Steve’s already running before his whole sentence is even out.

-

“You don’t need to remember everything,” Steve whispers that night, running his fingers gently through Bucky’s hair with just the city lights behind them and their enhanced vision to see by.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but he buries his face against Steve’s lower stomach where he’s got his head in Steve’s lap and Steve can’t help curling over him a little, like he can finally protect Bucky from the world that keeps trying to tear him into pieces for its own amusement and throw them in the garbage when they’re done.

-

Bucky’s only in the Tower for two days before the government shows up.

-

“You’ll just be holding him, right?” Tony demands. One of the agents inclines their head.

“For three days,” the foremost one says, “We need to conduct questioning and gather our own information. Afterwards, he’s free to be contained here on house arrest until his arraignment and then trial.”

Steve frowns heavily, fists clenched tightly at his sides.

“It’s just for a few days,” Sam says quietly from his side, and Steve glances at him briefly before looking back at the agent, “After, he’ll be here, and we can _all_ work on getting him through the trial.” Steve looks at him again, mouth pinching.

“I don’t like it,” he replies, just as quiet, eyes shifting back to the agents.

Some of their heartbeats are a little fast, but they’re standing in front of half of the Avengers in the Avengers Tower _lobby_. Steve can’t base anything off of it.

“Stark can get the best lawyers,” Sam says after another moment, still quiet, “And if they take _any_ longer than three days, we’ll go down and get him ourselves.” Steve thinks about it.

“I’ll go,” Bucky says, before he can make a decision, and Steve whips around to look at him.

Bucky steps up next to his left, hair still damp from a shower and t-shirt clinging to him a little for the same reason. Steve swallows, studying his face.

Bucky looks back.

“ _Any longer_ ,” Steve says after a moment, quiet, “And I’m coming to get you.”

Bucky nods after a moment, expression calm but eyes a little wild.

He doesn’t want to go.

Steve reaches over and takes a hold of his hand. Bucky grips it back tightly before letting go and then Steve watches him walk towards the agents, a weight sinking from his chest down to his stomach.

He’s pretty sure it’s his heart.

When they’re at the door, Bucky looks back over his shoulder as he’s escorted out, surrounded by a sea of black.

Steve swallows again and watches him go, eyes locked on his until Bucky climbs into a black SUV and the door’s closed, Bucky taken away from him again.

He feels like he’s coming apart at the seams.

-

“I’m going,” Steve says three tense days later, strapping on his uniform.

“ _It’s only been_ -”

“It’s been one minute too long,” Steve cuts him off, picking up his shield on the way to the elevator, “ _I’m going_.”

“ _We’re all coming with you_ ,” Tony says from the holoscreen that materializes in the hallway, another appearing up towards the elevator.

“I’m not stopping,” Steve says, elevator doors sliding closed, “Meet me there. Avengers, Assemble.”

-

They storm the building, double doors hitting the walls when Steve shoves them open, and Steve strides forward, leading the way in.

The agents in the room and the secretaries heads all snap up, the agents all going for their guns before recognition filters in and they all faulter to varying degrees.

“ _You can’t_ -”

“It’s been three days,” Steve cuts off the one approaching them, his _Captain America_ face on, “ _Where is he_.”

“I can’t-” the agent starts.

“Look,” Clint chimes in from his back left, “Best friend. Seventy years. Thought he was dead. He finally showed up. Understand?” he asks.

The agent pauses, eyes darting back to Steve before he nods sharply and then turns.

“Follow me.”

-

They’re led into an elevator. It’s a tight fit, but they manage. When the doors open, the agent steps out first, heartbeat quick and loud and nervous. Steve frowns a little but his attention shifts when he hears-

_“-ut of time. Finish it up. Ship it.”_

_“Can’t-”_

Steve dashes the rest of the way down and around the corner at the end, ignores the agent behind him shouting and aims for the two whipping around on either side of a set of double doors at the end of the hallway, pulling out their guns.

“ _You_ -”

Two tiny discs go flying past him on either side and the agents jolt, electricity sparking up their frames while they convulse then hit the floor. Steve charges straight into the center of the doors with his shield and-

_Bucky’s on a steel table-_

_Strapped down-_

_There’s a tube on the left on a white counter-_

_There’s a-_

_There’s a **leg** in it-_

_“Bucky!”_ Steve shouts.

Steve breaks their bones and Bucky _screams_ , and this time it’s right near Steve’s face instead of falling away into wind and snow and the sound of a train.

And all he can do is hold onto Bucky and keep their foreheads pressed together, and rip off the straps holding the rest of his body down all over again.

-

“ _...-eve?_ ”

He stares straight ahead.

“ _Steve?_ ”

He blinks once, standing up a little straighter.

“Yeah, Sam?” he asks calmly, voice a little hollow to his own ears.

He doesn’t care.

Sam doesn’t say anything.

Steve stares into the room.

Bucky’s staring up at the ceiling, like he has been since they got him here, eyes half lidded, vacant. His vitals are all good, Tony’s doctors tell him, but Bucky’s just…

Not _there_.

“He’ll come out of it,” Sam says gently. Steve’s fingers tighten on his own arm, arms still crossed.

“It’s been two days,” Steve says quietly.

Sam doesn’t say anything to that.

-

He stays with Steve for a while, an hour, maybe more, before gently squeezing his shoulder and leaving him to his silence. Steve stares into Bucky’s room for another hour, thinking, before uncrossing his arms and walking over to the door, waiting for the glass to slide open before he steps inside.

He slows to a stop at Bucky’s bedside, reaches a hand forward and then stops again, fingertips trailing over the soft sheets, so much softer than the ones he remembers from _before_. He opens his mouth, closes it again, and listens to the soft beeps while he watches Bucky’s eyes watch nothing.

Steve moves forward a little more after a minute and carefully sits on the edge of the bed, taking Bucky’s right hand gently in his own.

“Bucky,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb gently over Bucky’s knuckles, “I think you can hear me, can’t you, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t respond.

Steve thinks carefully over the next hour, knows he should feel torn about what it is he _is_ thinking about doing, but he just... _can’t_.

He can’t keep splitting his attention between Bucky and the world, and look where it’s gotten both of them when he _has_.

He just can’t anymore. Neither of them can.

Steve raises Bucky’s hand while he curves down towards it, a tree bending under weight, and rests his mouth against the back of Bucky’s hand.

 _‘I’m going to change the world for you,’_ he mouths there, so Bucky feels it and the cameras and microphones don’t catch it, _‘Just you and me again, Buck. No one else. I promise.’_

Bucky blinks slowly, eyes just as slowly slanting in Steve’s direction.

Steve stares back.

 _‘I’ll burn everything,’_ he mouths, _‘This will never happen again. No one will ever touch you **again**.’_

Bucky watches him for a long minute, and then his hand grips Steve’s.

 

_Now - 2025_

 

“The Avengers were the first obstacle I fought through,” Steve says, eyes dropped to the sheets and voice steady, “Natasha Romanoff was neutralized first.”

 _A flash of red hair, blood splatter_.

Steve looks back up at the holoscreen.

“The most dangerous of the whole team and the most likely to stop what I was working towards,” he continues, sitting a little straighter, “Next was Clint Barton, A.K.A. Hawkeye, who was neutralized with the news of Natasha Romanoff’s death. Following him, I asked Sam Wilson to leave the city, return to Washington D.C. and to his relatives. He refused. I broke both of his legs to the point beyond repair so he would not interfere. He had nanotech implants grafted to his muscle and bones one year ago, and has returned to walking.” Steve lets his eyes go unfocused briefly. “Following him, I sought out a valuable ally.”

 

_“Arno Stark?” he asks. The man looks up._

_“What do you want, Captain Rogers?”_

_“For you to help me with Tony Stark,” Steve replies, stopping a few feet away from the bed._

_“Why?” he asks, putting his book down on his lap, “And don’t try the ‘Sure you hate your adoptive brother’ angle.”_

_“Because Tony brings destruction,” Steve says, “And I will bring peace, for Troy, as well.”_

_Arno studies him for a moment._

_“Your life is surrounded in destruction,” he counters, and Steve nods slightly._

_“Which is why I’m putting an end to that cycle,” he returns, softer, “Tony is not.”_

_Arno considers him for a minute before nodding, setting his book on the bedside table._

_“What do you need?” he asks._

_“Three things,” Steve replies, and Arno waits._

 

“With help, Jarvis, Tony Stark’s A.I., was reprogrammed and Bruce Banner put into cryogenic storage in The Fridge, a facility taken from S.H.I.E.L.D. by Hydra, and then by me. Tony Stark was neutralized via Jarvis three days ago,” he states, “Thor was banished from Earth with the influence I had gained, with the aid of my new ally, on the grounds that he was a visitor on this planet and did not fully reside here. I have a meeting with Asgard tomorrow, as Commander of Earth, and there is the possibility that negotiations may be made.”

Knuckles gently brush his side just above the sheet and he sighs softly, closing his eyes for a moment.

“It has been ten years since I started this self-appointed mission, to bring peace to the world, to people, and to destroy those who would would throw it back into chaos and bring war. Bucky nor I have aged,” Steve continues, looking straight ahead. Fingertips press gently to his skin and then he hears shifting, sees Bucky sit up in his periphery. “The world is at peace now,” Steve says, “And now no one will ever touch Bucky Barnes again.”

He feels Bucky rest his chin on his shoulder and Steve tilts his head to the side until they touch, eyes on the screen.

“My mission is complete. This concludes Archive File Number 109.”

The holoscreen disintegrates and the room goes dark.

On top of the sheets, Bucky’s hand finds his, and they both give a squeeze.


End file.
